


Out of the Frying Pan...

by MyoJinMjolnir



Category: Dreaming of Sunshine, Dreaming of Sunshine - Silver Queen (fanfic)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyoJinMjolnir/pseuds/MyoJinMjolnir
Summary: ...Into the Fire.Shikako kinda figures that after the Fourth Shinobi War things will calm down. After all, it was only because of the Plot that Team Seven missions went so spectacularly sideways, right? There's no way anybody's luck is actually that bad.(Hers is apparently)
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Nara Shikako, Senju Itama & Haruno Sakura & Nara Shikako, Senju Tobirama & Haruno Sakura & Nara Shikako
Comments: 9
Kudos: 280
Collections: Exchange no Jutsu 2020





	Out of the Frying Pan...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KuroHikaTsuchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroHikaTsuchi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dreaming of Sunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/53648) by Silver Queen. 



> My piece for the Exchange! I LOVE time travel and unusual character interactions just like KuroHikaTsuchi so this was a real fun piece to write. 
> 
> This is a one-shot that I kinda left open ended. It was already 2,000 words long and I finally had to tell myself "stop" before I wrote a whole novel. Hope you enjoy!

The moon is high in the sky and nearly full, looming over the forest clearing. Shikako thinks this strange, considering it was a sunny afternoon about ten minutes ago.

Sakura’s kneeling over the kid they found in the forest, completely ignoring the bodies of the shinobi the two of them just killed. The forest they found themselves in is unfamiliar, her and Sakura having suddenly arrived about a hundred meters away and being immediately drawn to the battle that had been taking place here. And by “suddenly arrived”, Shikako really means “popped into existence”. Ridiculous sound effect and all.

With Sakura busy healing the kid’s nasty gut wound, Shikako starts poking around the bodies to try and figure out where they are. Her and Sakura _had_ been on a simple mission, headed back home from the Land of Wind. Next thing they knew, it was a different time of day in a totally different place. They were _probably_ still in the land of Fire—no other country really had the dense forests that they did—but obviously not near Konoha, given the lack of Hashirama trees.

None of the six enemy ninja the two of them killed wore headbands, but there were subtler ways to check for village association. Shikako checked their weaponry (subpar and with no identifiable designs), their features (Black and dark brown hair, black eyes. Unremarkable), and their _armor_ (which was weird—ninjas didn’t wear armor, and if they did it was definitely more lightweight than their heavy breastplates). Shikako flips one of them over, looking to see if there’s a clan mon on their long coats. Ice floods her veins as soon as she recognizes what she was seeing.

Uchiha. These men were all…Uchiha.

Something is wrong.

Shikako rocks back on her haunches, mind racing. She looks towards where Sakura’s sitting. “How’s the kid?”

Sakura smoothes chakra covered hands over her bloody arms, gathering all the red up in her palms and tossing it into the underbrush, leaving just clean, pale skin. Shikako _so_ needs to learn that technique later. “He’ll be fine. He’s lucky we found him when we did. That sword strike went…deep.” Her green eyes are troubled and she starts running her hand through the two-toned hair of the boy.

Shikako tugs at her braid. “I…have no idea what’s going on,” she admits reluctantly. “I can’t tell where we are and—Sakura, these men were Uchiha.” Sakura’s eyes are so big the green of them seems to glow in the moonlight. They sit in silence, too many questions with not a single answer between them. A heavy breeze shakes the trees and Shikako’s attention is suddenly caught by the rising landscape she can see above the treeline. _Why does that look so familiar…_

Sakura glances around the clearing with watchful eyes, one hand still firmly pressed against her patient, monitoring. “Well, we better start figuring things out. Any hypotheses about what that seal did?”

It takes Sakura a second to realize that Shikako’s not going to answer her. She’s quiet, no rambling about seals or postulating theory Sakura doesn’t understand. Instead she’s standing, eyes darting around the clearing and lingering on the bodies of the Uchiha in the grass. Then her eyes fix on the kid they found, taking him in with more detail. She looks worried. _Really_ worried. “Shikako?” Sakura asks quietly. She doesn’t seem to hear her.

Shikako turns her gaze back up to the treeline. “Oh,” she says quietly. A lot of things are starting to become clear for her at that moment, and it’s really the only sound she can produce.

.

.

.

Sakura stares balefully at the stars as Shikako pokes at their campfire. The wispy clouds that were drifting by earlier are gone, leaving a clear view of the night sky. “Shit,” she says vehemently. “I think I might be starting to hate seals. First zombies, now this.” Shikako is a little affronted on behalf of her chosen specialty, but she understands where Sakura is coming from. After all, time travel really is _annoying_.

Shikako recognized the cliff first, the kid second. The cliff would become the Hokage Mountain of Konoha—Shikako had seen that particular landmark enough times to recognize it even without the faces—and the kid…

Shikako has a sinking feeling that the kid is Senju Itama.

Night had fallen hours ago. They really should be sleeping, but both Shikako and Sakura felt unsettled enough that it would be a futile attempt. Besides, both were more than used to working long hours; one night without sleep would be fine. They were waiting for the kid to wake up, now.

The fire crackles between them, sounding oddly peaceful for the dire situation they found themselves in. Shikako heaves a sigh. "You know what the _real_ problem is?" Sakura looks at her curiously. "If Konoha isn't here yet then that means neither is Ichiraku." Shikako's half-hearted attempt to lighten the atmosphere makes Sakura chuckle, thinking about what a fit Naruto would throw if he was here with them. That was something to be thankful for at least—that it was Shikako here with her, Konoha's seal mistress. 

"I totally blame you," Sakura says drily. There's a smile playing at her lips though, so Shikako knows she's not serious. "You and your damn Team Seven luck." Shikako's head droops down and she groans at the reminder of her 'curse'. She always thought it was superstitious crap made up by irate desk ninja, but she was about ready to become a believer herself. Seriously, _time-travel?_

The boy stirs a half hour later. His youth is painfully obvious in the way his face scrunches and the small noises he makes as he slowly wakes. His training is just as obvious when he freezes before darting across the clearing, trying to escape. He doesn’t make it, of course. Sakura is up and has him bundled in her arms before he even reaches the treeline. He doesn’t scream, but he does struggle, and the look of pure fear on his face opens up a pit in Shikako’s stomach. Sakura is whispering quietly to him, trying to calm him down, but it’s not working. To be fair, complacency around strangers is deadly, especially in the Warring Clans Era (which Shikako is almost 100% sure is where— _when_ they are). At least in their time they have the delicate peace that came about after the Fourth Shinobi War to protect them.

Shikako makes her way over to the two of them, crouching down to the kid’s level. Sakura has him tucked under her arm and is holding onto his wrists. He can’t hurt her, but she won’t risk him hurting himself. Shikako makes the effort to meet his eyes and takes the plunge. “Itama,” she says. The kid startles. “Itama, we’re just interested in taking you home.”

Unfortunately, this doesn’t have the calming effect she was hoping it would. He starts struggling harder, spitting out, “I will never tell you where the Senju live you-!”

Itama droops, knockout tag fluttering. Shikako lets out a long breath. Sakura carries him back over to the fire, laying him out on one of Shikako’s spare bedrolls. “Well that didn’t go well,” Sakura murmurs. She starts smoothing her hand over his two-toned hair again.

Shikako leans back and tucks her hands behind her head. There’s not a lot of light pollution in hidden villages, but even with the minimal street lights gone the stars seem so much brighter. “Guess we’re doing it the hard way.” The next morning Shikako will use her sensing to find the Senju compound. Her and Sakura will bump up against the border, Itama in tow, and kick up a fuss that will involve earth jutsu and falling trees. They’ll wait till the border patrol is en route, take off the knockout tag and dump Itama in the impromptu clearing they made, and get the hell out of dodge. They will hope they did the right thing.

It will come back to bite them in the ass.

.

.

.

  
Sakura and Shikako are in the past for three weeks before they draw attention to themselves. Considering one of them is both an explosives enthusiast and a member of the infamous Team Seven, and the other has anger issues and the ability to level mountains, this is a minor miracle.

Neither Shikako nor Sakura have the Sharingan, so they have to rely on their half-a-glimpse of the seal to figure out a way home. Their (admittedly formidable) memories carry them about 60% of the way through the reconstruction of the initial seal, and Shikako’s knowledge carries them the rest of the way through to a _theoretically_ correct seal. After that, they were able to start on a return seal. Given that space-time seals were not Shikako’s specialty, it took a while to even work up a prototype—well, for a given value of ‘a while’. Shikako always ran a bit ahead of the curve.

The first test seal…well, it blew up. Rather spectacularly. It’s only after that happens that the real trouble starts. Shikako and Sakura take all the precautions any reasonable shinobi would, and a few beyond that. Still, it’s pretty hard to hide from the greatest sensor the shinobi world has ever seen, especially when you don’t know he’s looking for you.

They’re just setting up their new campground when he finds them. The kunoichi had moved after the rather attention-grabbing failure of that first space-time seal. There were monsters lingering in this time that they are all too aware of, and the idea of running into Uchiha Madara in his prime was nightmare fuel for Shikako and Sakura. And besides that, Shikako had seen enough science fiction to know that she did not want to find out what a paradox was like first hand. Or, worse, come home to a future completely changed.

Lunch for that day is rabbit. Shikako's slow roasting it on the fire, having a bit more experience with cooking in the field, while Sakura sets up the rest of camp. Shikako’s also got her notes in front of her, studying, more than used to double-tasking. The rabbit is almost done when Shikako gets a ping off her sensing. “Incoming,” she says, standing.

Sakura steps away from the tarp she was hanging to stand by her friend. “Hostile?”

Shikako hums. “Unknown. Traveling fast, especially for this era. Coming straight towards us, possible water nature. We got about thirty seconds.” Shikako slips into the lazy slouch she borrowed from Kakashi-sensei, ready to dodge anything that comes their way. Sakura squares her stance.

The chakra signature that reminds Shikako of rushing rapids, icy cold and fast and deadly if unprepared, pauses at the edge of their campsite, where the first line of defensive traps are. Slowly, they pick their way through the defenses the two of them set up. “Possible sensor,” Shikako whispers. She pauses. “I don’t think they’re hostile.” It’s still hard for her to read precise intentions from chakra, but general positive and negative emotional impressions aren’t difficult.

Finally, a head of white hair emerges from the brush. Shikako cannot believe her eyes. Sakura makes a choked wheezing sound next to her because that’s…that’s Senju Tobirama. That’s the Second Hokage as a _teenager_. He’s glowering at them, wearing the same armor as most shinobi in this time wear but lacking his iconic headpiece; though, the facial tattoos are there. Shikako starts wondering if they’re weird birthmarks because who tattoos a teenager?

(Yes, she is aware that she is panicking. Just a little).

Still, it is undeniably him, looking only a few years younger than Shikako. “Ohhhh shit.”

Tobirama scowls at her, as if he can’t believe Shikako really said that. “Who are you two?” It’s less a question and more a demand. Sakura is immediately riled.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business kid.” Her tone is scathing. She recognizes him, of course she does, and the fear that sprouts from that recognition raises her hackles. Shikako is pale and Sakura is sure she is too. Shikako had warned her about what sort of bad things could happen if they messed around in this era. Bad things like _collapsing space-time_ or _preventing their own births_.

There’s a moment where the air is completely still with anticipation. Tobirama’s lips lift in what might be a smile but is more of a baring of teeth. His red eyes glint in the afternoon sun. “A month ago,” he grits out. “You rescued…my brother. Itama.”

“I remember.” Both kunoichi are so stiff they might as well be stone, but Sakura speaks because of course she does. He was her patient, after all. Shikako stays quiet, analyzing the situation. 

Tobirama eyes them. “You saved my brother,” he repeats. His lips thin. “There are questions that must be answered.”

Shikako and Sakura exchange looks. Sakura raises her brows questioningly. Shikako grimaces. She turns to him, stance firm and ready but no longer _tense_ in the way she was before. “I suppose you should sit down then, Senju-san.” She gestures to the fire, where the rabbit is ready to be eaten and her seal work is laid out, clearly visible. Tobirama’s eyebrows climb nearly to his hairline as he recognizes the swirls on the paper for what they are. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Tobirama’s red eyes watch them carefully, curiously. “I suppose we do.”


End file.
